


For Love

by chase_acow



Category: College Football RPF
Genre: Angst, Best Friends, College, College Football, Established Relationship, Happy Ending, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2009-12-21
Updated: 2009-12-21
Packaged: 2017-10-04 21:02:14
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,671
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/34096
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/chase_acow/pseuds/chase_acow
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>December is a stressful time for college athletes getting ready to play for a National Championship.  Colt and Jordan have to navigate the stress and make sure they each know what's really important.</p>
            </blockquote>





	For Love

**Author's Note:**

  * For [deadaire](https://archiveofourown.org/gifts?recipient=deadaire).



Jordan's thighs burned as he raced up yet another flight of stairs. Most the time he didn't mind living on the top floor of the building. The apartments up there made the dorm rooms look like prison cells, and he liked being able to sleep without listening to the linemen stomping around over his head. They claimed they couldn't help it, but Jordan knew that they must secretly be practicing for a River Dance revival.

His enjoyment of the undisturbed sleep didn't stop him from wanting to curse when he saw that he still had two floors to go. Fortunately, he was too busy panting for air. As soon as he got a chance, he'd make Chris pay for filling the elevators with foam as a last prank before graduation. They were out of service for the rest of the semester. Normally, he didn't mind taking the stairs, but then he normally wasn't running this late. He didn't even have anyone else to blame but himself, and that just made him want to chew metal and spit nails.

Finally, he hit the door to the hallway and sprinted down to the door at the end. His heart pounded against his ribcage, he hadn't meant to get caught up in the weight room and end up twenty minutes late. Jordan already had his key ring out, and quickly shoved the worn brass key into the door. He started talking before he even crossed the threshold, "Colt! I'm sorry it took so long to-"

Jordan cut himself off, skidding to a halt on the tile of the small kitchen area. The dark apartment echoed with only his own noise, emptier than he was used to since they'd both packed to go home after the championship game. Rolling his shoulders, Jordan turned and shut the door behind him, unwilling to chance one of his ever-helpful teammates busting in on him. Maybe a few of them suspected that he and Colt were something more than just quarterback and receiver, old friends, and roommates, but no one had ever said anything to their faces. He'd just as soon keep it that way.

On the refrigerator, the orange dry-erase board mocked him with Colt's neat scrawl:

_Hey J-_

I stayed as long as I could before the cab started honking.  
Guess I'll see you on Thursday. I'll give you a call if I get  
a chance.

Colt

Groaning, Jordan rubbed his hands up his face and combed his fingers through his hair. Obviously, Colt was pissed; he always saved the passive-aggression for when Jordan really screwed up. He should have been there to say goodbye before Colt jetted off on his award circuit.

Everything started changing so fast after they beat Texas A&amp;M, he could barely keep up. Finals, talking to the press, awards banquets, practices, extra unofficial practices, and all the hoopla surrounding the holiday season were taking a serious toll on his mental state. Jordan really just wanted to get to the game against Alabama so things could slow down a little bit. Somehow, Colt managed all of that along with the added volunteering at two hospitals and three different homeless shelters without disappointing anyone.

Forget about Superman wearing Tim Tebow pajamas, Colt could be the next best thing to a Saint and it wasn't all hype. Jordan never really minded always playing second fiddle, really he preferred to stay out of the spotlight as much as possible and let his game do the talking for him. Sometimes, though, he really wouldn't mind ruffling his boyfriend's feathers every once in awhile.

Jordan blew out a breath that he didn't really know he'd been holding and stared up at the ceiling. Fishing in his pocket, he pulled out his phone and flipped it open; he might be able to get hold of Colt before he got on the airplane to New York. Colt's phone rang straight to voicemail, but Jordan tried not to let his disappointment show in his voice.

"Hi, Colt, It's me. I just wanted to say sorry I was late. I wanted to be here to see you. I guess I'll just see you down in Florida. Good luck, go win some awards for us," Jordan paused, clearing his throat. "I miss you."

He hung up before he could say anything else and embarrass them both. In the two years they'd been together, neither one had ever called the thing between them anything more than friendship. They both kept their faith, not an easy task in the middle of Texas anyway, but doubly hard when they had to keep their relationship a secret. Two gay football players wouldn't make it that far in the NFL.

Three loud bangs at the door startled him into dropping his phone onto the carpet. It landed next to a stain from last year where Lamar had dropped a piece of pizza upside down while they watched OU choke in yet another BCS game. Later that night, Colt had pushed him down on the couch and whispered into Jordan's skin that next year it'd be them playing for the Title.

"Hey, J-Ship!" Charlie yelled through the door, banging it again. "C'mon, we're headed down to the practice room to watch some tape! Not all of us get an all expense paid trip to fly around the country and smile for the camera."

Sighing, Jordan picked up his phone and turned around. He still had to wait three days before he'd get to see Colt, and they might be the longest three days of his life.

#

Football players are kind of a d-list reality TV star. Most of them never get to even talk to the media, but the ones that do, instantly have a kind of persona foisted on them by the talking heads at ESPN. A small handful that actually lived up to the hype, guys like Colt and Tebow. Guys who despite whatever happened behind the scenes were in fact decent, upstanding people.

Jordan kinda hated both of them, but mostly Tebow. He'd been down in Florida for several hours already, but he hadn't managed to get Colt alone once. Now he had to stick to the sidelines watching while the two quarterbacks filmed a segment for that night's award show. No one would every accuse Colt of being petty, but Jordan swore that he stood a little closer to Tebow than necessary and kept looking to make sure Jordan was watching.

Oh was he watching.

They finally wrapped, and the camera crew packed it in leaving the football players in the middle of Disney World with just a couple of handlers keeping a discrete distance. Jordan shoved his fists in his jeans, stepped up next to Colt, and bumped their shoulders together. "Hey man, you wanna go find something to do before we have to go back to the hotel?" he asked, hunching his shoulders under his black hoodie.

"Sure. You want to come with, Tim?" Colt asked, pressing back against Jordan for just a split second before he moved away.

Very few times in their long past, had Jordan ever considered Colt petty, but now his jaw ached as he ground his teeth together. He'd definitely have to find his way out of the dog house soon before he lost his temper and spiked a ball in somebody's face. It wasn't anybody's fault, just the universe screwing with what might be their last few peaceful weeks together that put them in this awkward situation.

Jordan still wouldn't mind dumping Tebow into the river just for fun. Hell, Tebow was a nice enough guy that he'd probably _let_ Jordan take his issues out on him. It would probably just make Jordan feel bad in the long run, but every once in a while, he wished he could pick instant gratification over his own better sense.

Tebow blinked widely and glanced back and forth between them, before finally shaking his head. "No thanks, I have a prior commitment," he said, slapping Jordan on the shoulder and squeezing a bit as he walked by. "I'll catch you guys later. Have fun."

"See ya later," Colt waved, and then ambled off without waiting for Jordan .

"Seriously? You're going to keep this up the entire time?" Jordan asked, starting to get a little mad on his own behalf. He hadn't _meant_ to stand Colt up, and it wasn't quite his idea of a good tie wandering around watching Colt flirt with Tebow, but he'd done it so he could spend more time with Colt.

Shrugging, Colt kept walking, though he angled away from both the crowds and the handlers following behind them. Jordan followed silently, stewing inside until Colt took a sharp left, and headed out on a dock overlooking the river. The breeze there felt a little cooler than Jordan preferred, and cut straight through the material of his hoodie. Goosebumps prickled up on his arms as he tried to keep from shivering.

"I know I'm being stupid," Colt said quietly, propping his foot up on the bottom rung of the railing. "I'm just stressed. Everyone wants something from me, there's no time for anything, I can't watch my little bro play ball, and I just needed to lean on you for a sec but you weren't there."

"I'm sorry," Jordan said again, swallowing the lump that formed in his throat. Colt handled everything so well that even though Colt was the more emotional of the two, Jordan had to remind himself that Colt was human every once in a while. They both made mistakes.

They were out in public with probably a hundred of people nearby just waiting to pull out their cell phones and snap pictures, but Jordan couldn't just stand there. He wrapped one arm around Colt's shoulders and pulled him in for a tight squeeze. Colt only relaxed when he dipped his arm to fit their bodies close together.

#

"You know, if one more person gives me a watch, clock, egg timer, sun dial, alarm, or other time-keeping device for Christmas, I will go dark-side and take over the world of collegiate sports," Colt grumbled, flipping a small plastic kid's wrist watch at Jordan's head.

Without looking up from the Sunday early edition spread out over his desk, Jordan caught the small projectile and fought to keep a grin off his face. Colt was never going to live down the end to the Big Twelve championship game, but at least this time that second had gone in their favor. "Yeah? What would your name be? Darth McStache?" he teased, sliding his eyes sideways so he could see Colt's reaction.

"Ha, ha," Colt groused, flopping back on Jordan's bed, falling spread eagle so that his arms and legs hung over the edges. His shirt would be a wrinkly mess by the time he finished, but thankfully, his wool suit jacket hanging over the back of Jordan's chair would probably hide most of the damage. "I'd be a terrifying Dark Lord."

Folding the paper at the edges so that it looked as if he hadn't flipped through it before his dad got a chance at it after church, Jordan turned and leaned back in his chair. "So what would be your first act of terror?" he asked, lifting an eyebrow.

"Making it a capital crime for announcers to talk about us being roommates. It's been four years, I think the whole galaxy knows by now," Colt stretched, his back popped off the mattress for a second before he slouched back down. "I mean, do they ever talk about my mad spider solitaire skills or your ability to balance a nutter-butter on your nose?"

"I can see Game Day now," Jordan rolled his eyes, but stood and moved over to the bed. He considered for a moment, but then he shoved Colt's arm over and eased himself belly down, they might as well both be wrinkled. Twisting his neck to keep Colt in sight, he pressed their sides together enjoying the shared warmth. "Herbstreit could flick cookies at everyone while Corso sat there with a spider on his head, and Des pretended that he wasn't surrounded by insane people."

Colt rolled over on his side and propped his head up on his hand, looking down at Jordan. "That'd be us one day, y'know," he said, the corners of his mouth turned up in a boyish grin. "When we're tired of all that fame and fortune of the NFL, we'll go work for ESPN. Then we can be the guys getting paid by the word and playing footsie underneath the table."

It did make a nice picture, Jordan had to admit. He lifted his arm and draped it over Colt's ribs. "But who's gonna provide the actual content?" he teased, digging his thumb into the ticklish place he knew would make Colt squirm.

The bed squeaked as Colt jerked, snorting in laughter, and rolled them both over so he could stay on top, holding Jordan's wrists in self defense. "I dunno, we could get Sam and have an all Big Twelve crew," Colt answered, dipping his head down to rub their cheeks together.

"Over my dead body," Jordan said instantly, lifting one knee to rub between Colt's thighs. He turned his head until he heard his stubble rasp against Colt's skin and froze. "Sorry, I didn't shave this morning."

"How manly," Colt carefully pulled up so he wouldn't end up with a beard burn that would be pretty impossible to explain away. He leaned down and pressed their lips softly together.

When they first started screwing around, it had always been hard and quick, without anymore touching than strictly necessary. Somewhere along the line, everything had blurred. Jordan couldn't believe there'd ever been a time he hadn't wanted to kiss Colt, and just keep kissing until their lungs felt like exploding.

"_Boys!_ Are you ready to go? Case and Jaxon left already, your mothers are finally out of the bathrooms, and we're going in five minutes with or without you!"

The sound of Colt's dad's voice easily cut through his closed door and they jerked apart on reflex. Colt wobbled on the edge of the bed for a second before he fell to the floor with a soft thump on Jordan's clean clothes he hadn't bothered to put up yet. The annual McCoy-Shipley Sunday after Christmas church sojourn was right on schedule.

Jordan slid off the bed and reached over to give Colt a hand up. He walked to the closest and pulled his jacket off the hanger. "Hey, you ever wonder if Case and Jaxon are, you know?" he asked, trailing off meaningfully.

"No, no, no, God, no," Colt quickly answered, shaking his head like a dog with fleas.

"I'm just saying, we were their age when we first started-"

"I can _not_ have a conversation about our little brothers' sex lives right before we go to church. It took me long enough to admit to my own," Colt interrupted, though he grinned to tell Jordan that he wasn't really upset.

They'd both had a hard time first reconciling themselves to the fact that at the very least, they were bisexual and had some sort of attraction to each other. A year apart when Jordan started at UT ahead of Colt was supposed to cool them off, but actually it only made them need each other more. Thankfully, having been friends almost since birth and roommates for several years, no one really looked at the differently for always being in each other's pockets.

While their religion was pretty clear that they were bound for Hell, they both found that their faith had a different and more compelling twist. Together, they were stronger, they took care of each other, and no problem would be too big. They both still believed in God and gave Him the glory, but their fellowship together made them better men. They could have both, even if no one else would know.

"Two minute drill, boys!" Jordan's dad yelled, drowning out his mother's softer yelling about her hair. "I don't want to have to sit behind the Dixons again, that man's aftershave makes me break out. Colt, if you need an extra watch, you can borrow one of mine."

Colt groaned as he shrugged into his jacket, but Jordan just chuckled as he shoved Colt out of his room and down the stairs. Tonight, they'd head back to Austin for the final rounds of practices before flying out to Pasadena, but for the moment, he could just enjoy being with the people he cared for the most.

#

The Longhorns were down by four with a minute forty-nine left in the fourth quarter, and no last second field goal was going to save them this time. Their defense stopped 'Bama on a three and out to get the ball back for one last drive. Jordan backed up to field the punt, but had to call for a fair catch on the thirty instead of trying to run it for extra yardage. Alabama had been all over him the whole game, and it had been his muffed catch in the second quarter that let the Tide take the lead.

Both sides of the stadium, red and orange, were going crazy and noise rose to a level that finally made his ears ring. Jordan jogged over, shaking his head at his inability to get a few more yards, but the guys all thumped his shoulder pads and grinned at him. They weren't worried, the entire week in Pasadena, they'd had to listen to everyone and their dogs talk about how over matched they were, but they had a chance to win.

They were _going_ to win.

"All right guys, block your assignments, run your routes, and stay away from stupid penalties. This is our moment. This is what we've worked for, and we're going to take it," Colt yelled, straining his hoarse voice to make sure they could hear him. "That trophy is ours. Our names are on it, and this is a day that Texas will never forget."

Goosebumps broke out on his arms just listening to Colt's intensity. They'd been in the zone all night, fully focused on the next series, the next snap. Both teams had played a near perfect game, and at the end of the night they'd know which could claim to be the best in the nation. This kind of game went down in history, and they were both flying high enough to touch the sky.

The first play, Colt handed the ball off to Tre' who managed to slink his way to a first down. Colt took the snap and threw a short pass to Jordan over the middle, but the Tide's safety brought him down before he could get over the first down marker. Texas hurried to set up and Colt kept the ball, diving just to Chris' side to pick up the extra yard.

They were all panting as they gathered between the hashes for a second while the chain gang moved down the field. Most of them were wearing some part of the field on their uniforms. Jordan knew that his entire left side was stained red after sliding through 'Bama's endzone in a touchdown catch. Colt still had grass hanging off the side of his face mask from one of the many times he'd been introduced to the turf by 'Bama's defense.

Colt checked the sideline for the play, nodded and then turned back to the group. "Option to the left guys. Jordan, make sure that you sell your route in case we have to double back," Colt yelled and clapped his hands breaking up their huddle.

The next play got them across midfield, and Jordan didn't know how it was possible, but the crowd actually got _louder_. He lined up in the slot and his attention narrowed to reading the defense and feeling how the play would expand around him. He took a good lead off the line, faking out his man and streaking to the sideline. He turned back in time to see the pocket collapse around Colt and felt his stomach drop.

Jordan cut across the middle, waving his hand up in the air. He could tell the second that Colt saw his play and stretched his legs out so he could meet the ball when Colt put it over Jordan's far shoulder. The football sailed into his hands, and Jordan tucked it under his arm before turning up field.

He didn't see the two guys baring down on him, but he felt the world drop away when they hit him. His body stayed suspending for a shattering second, and then he slammed into the ground, knocking all the wind out of him

"You can let go of the ball now."

The voice was dim, but he'd know it anywhere no matter what. Jordan followed Colt's directions and let loose his death grip on the football. He blinked hard and gradually, everything around him came back into focus. Colt kneeled over him, worried behind his facemask, with a hand on Jordan's chest.

"Do you need the trainers out here, Jordan?" Colt asked, his fingers pulling at Jordan's jersey with nerves that he hadn't shown all night.

If the trainers came out to check on him, he'd have to sit out the next play at least and there was only fifty-seven seconds left in the game. He pulled his mouth guard out so he could swallow and shook his head. "Just help me up," he said, holding out his hands for his worried teammates to grab.

The stadium clapped when he got to his feet and gingerly jogged with Colt back to where Coach had the team huddled during a time-out. Just before they reached the others, Colt pulled Jordan's shoulder pad to stop and turn him.

"Don't even think about pulling any kind of macho BS," Colt growled, shaking Jordan to make sure that he had his attention. "Winning won't mean much if something happens to you. Hear me?"

Jordan ached, his whole body hurt, but he knew what his limits were, he knew what it felt like to watch helpless for the sidelines, and he knew that he had enough still inside him to finish the game. "I hear you," he answered, slapping the side of Colt's helmet. "I'm good to go. Trust me."

For a second, it looked like Colt wanted to argue, but he eventually just nodded his head and agreed, "Right."

It took four plays and too many seconds to get the next first down, and they were still thirty yards away from a touchdown. From victory. Colt took their last timeout with six seconds left on the clock. They all checked the signal caller for the play, but Jordan doubted that any of them were surprised when Coach put the game in Colt's hands.

"All right. This is it, the play for all the marbles," Colt said, slowly looking around their huddle at guys he'd played with for the last four years. His body trembled with what Jordan knew was equal parts excitement and fatigue. "Jordan, you got one more catch left in you?"

Everyone looked at him, and he swallowed the sudden bile attacking his throat. When it came down to it, this was just one more pitch and catch in a long line. He nodded, chewing on the edge of his mouth guard, "Yeah, I got this."

Colt put his hand in the middle and the rest of them followed suit. No matter what happened in the next six seconds, they'd have this moment for the rest of their lives. Jordan knew that he and Colt probably wouldn't ever have the same relationship that they'd shared for the last five years. After this game, everything would change. He screwed his eyes shut, battling a sudden surge of emotion that washed through him.

"Just don't freak out after we win," Charlie said, breaking the silence and getting everyone's attention. He smirked and pointed back and forth between Colt and Jordan. He elbowed Luke and winked at Jordan, "I want SportsCenter to talk about that awesome tackle I made, not you two homos making out under the uprights."

The group shifted for a second, uncomfortable as they quickly jerked their heads over to gauge Colt's reaction. Laughter broke the sudden silence, and Chris looked up guiltily, but he couldn't stop the hysterical giggling until everyone else joined him too. Jordan laughed until his ribs felt like they were splitting, but it felt good draining the tension. Yeah, they were just a bunch of good old boys from Texas trying to do their mamas proud.

Colt jumped up on Charlie's back and demanded a ride up to the line of scrimmage. Just before they broke for their positions, Colt turned back to Jordan and held his fist out. "You ready for this?" he asked.

"Always," Jordan answered, bumping his fist into Colt's chest. "Together."

The Longhorns lined up on the ball and Jordan took his first step the second he saw the ball snapped. He ran for glory, for his teammates, but mostly, he ran for love.

#

"We're here in Stillwater, opening the 2026 college football season, with a game that, at least on paper, looks to go down in history as a clash of the Titans. I talked to Coach Gundy earlier today and this entire club is fired up to make another run through the playoffs for the National Title. Okie State's veteran quarterback returns for his senior season and looks to smash a glut of records with his fantastic stable of receivers and running backs. What do you think, Ship?"

Jordan smiled when the camera shifted over to get him in frame. "Well, he's no Colt McCoy, but I think that if they stay healthy, this team has a great chance to run the south division of the Big Fourteen and beat anyone else who gets in their way," he answered, shuffling his note cards a little. "I'll even go a little further and say that this will be the first time that a single club has three potential Heisman winners on the same team."

"Don't hold anything back, Jordan, tell us how you really feel," Tim said from the other side of the Game Day table, making them all laugh.

A group of excited Cowboy fans passed by the edge of the set catching Jordan's attention for a moment while the cameras focused on Tim breaking a story about more scandals taking place in Norman. If the Sooners didn't get the death penalty after their shenanigans, he'd finally know for sure that the entire university had made a deal with a devil. He pulled on the collar of his shirt, wishing for a bit of a breeze to cool him off.

Only by sheer force of will did he manage not to jump when he felt Colt's socked foot press up Jordan's calf. He resisted the urge to look over, knowing by now that Colt wouldn't show any outward sign of anything going on under the table. Jordan curled his leg around Colt's and tapped his wedding ring against the table. Less than a second later, Colt tapped back, his matching silver band winking in the sunlight.

"Let's move things over to the WAC," Tim said, shifting in his seat to look back over at the two of them. "Colt, how do you think Notre Dame will do this year after being kicked out of the SEC?"

"It's going to be interesting, Timmy, " Colt answered, and then continued with his analysis.

Jordan dropped his hand under the table and squeezed Colt's thigh. Life had a pretty strange way of working out, but at least the announcers didn't talk about them being roommates anymore. There wasn't a person in the nation who didn't know about the first openly gay and married sports analysts for ESPN.


End file.
